Blood Sister: A thrilling and gritty crime drama

by Dreda Say Mitchell

  ‘Don’t be like that, Mel . . .’ Babs heard hard footsteps walking away. ‘Alright, Mel, I’ll tell you what I heard the neighbours say.’

  Footsteps coming closer again. Mel was back. ‘Spit it out, I haven’t got all day.’

  ‘Give me the dosh first—’

  ‘If you’re pulling a fast one—’

  ‘Swear on my life, Mel, I’m not.’ There was the sound of rustling which Babs took to be the exchange of hard cash. ‘The neighbours heard slamming doors and stuff. Then the fella scarpers and a little while later some posh motor turns up with some guy – not a hair on his head – in it. He pays her a visit and while he’s doing whatever he’s doing . . .’ He winked at Mel . . . ‘he leaves two of his gorillas on the landing.’ He looked around, as if checking no one else was listening and then stepped closer to her. ‘One of the neighbours hears the two goons chatting about a car their boss is asking after. After he leaves the two little girls start bawling their eyes out.’

  The two little girls. A shiver went down Babs’ spine.

  ‘What car?’

  ‘Dunno. But, I did hear something else.’

  ‘Well, what you waiting for? Midnight mass? Spit it out.’

  He smacked his lips and whined, ‘I’m a bit dry at the moment. My mouth could do with wetting. So why don’t you jack me up with another tenner . . .’

  Babs heard a bit of a scuffle and then Ryan let out a long ouch. ‘Mel, let go of my balls.’

  ‘You keep pissing me about and I’ll tear them off and leave them in the freezer section.’

  ‘Alright, alright. They were looking for that geezer of hers, the one that did a bunk out of the flat. Sounds like he had something to do with the car disappearing in a puff of smoke.’

  Geezer of hers. If this was about her Jen, Babs knew the geezer was that no-mark Nuts. The judge should’ve instructed the prison authorities to sling the key away once they slammed the cell door on him in Brixton.

  ‘You sure about that?’ Mel went on.

  ‘I’m only telling you what I was told . . .’ Footsteps clacking away. ‘Hold up, where’s my tenner?’ The shop door tinkled as it was opened and then shut. Ryan waited a few seconds then let out in a menacing tone, ‘Bitch. She doesn’t know who she’s dealing with. I used to be king of the ring. The undisputed champ at Jo-Jo’s club . . .’

  Babs came out of her hiding place and approached him as he still ranted. He looked like a proper dosser – dirty clothes and he stank of urine; he must’ve wet himself sometime during the day. ‘How are tricks, Ryan?’

  He stopped mouthing off and his bloodshot eyes widened. He tried to hurry away from her, which confirmed to Babs that he’d been gossiping about her Jen. She grabbed his arm and decided to treat him differently from Mel and give him the ole softly-softly routine. ‘That Mel’s a right old cow. I mean, she should have respect for someone like you.’

  He shuffled his feet like he was back in the ring and nearly toppled over with the liquor inside him. Once he righted himself, he agreed, ‘You got that right.’

  As they talked, Babs steered him towards the counter where the spirits were kept safely away from anyone trying their hand at the five-finger discount.

  ‘I was going to have a nice evening in with a little something to hold in my hand.’ She looked up at the bottles of drink. ‘I just don’t know which one to choose. Brandy, whiskey, no, maybe some gin; I just don’t know which one to choose.’ She looked at him and wasn’t surprised to see his inflamed, purple tongue licking his cracked lips as his mouth watered.

  ‘You know what, Ryan son, I think I’ll come back when I’ve made my mind up.’ She half-turned away, but his hand on her arm stopped her.

  He leaned in close to her and Babs had to hold her breath when the stench of his unwashed mouth hit her. ‘Tell you what, Babsie babe, I’ll give you a little tickle about something if you get me a bottle of Johnnie Walker.’ His eyes went all innocent. ‘Not that I need you to buy me a bottle because I would’ve come to see you to tell you anyway.’

  The lying scrote. ‘’Course you would’ve.’

  Half a minute later, Ryan was guzzling away at the bottle like he was at his mother’s breast.

  ‘So what’s that you’ve got to tell me?’

  He wiped his mouth with the back of his dirty hand. ‘Heard there was a bit of bother at your Jen’s last night. Some geezer and his associates give her a hard time looking for her fella.’

  Babs already suspected what had gone on but hearing it still rocked her foundations. ‘What did they want?’

  He swayed and would’ve fallen if it weren’t for the counter. ‘Something about a car . . . Dunno . . .’ He pulled the bottle back to his lips and Babs knew that she’d lost him to the booze.

  She left him behind as he started singing some dirty ditty and the shop owner tried to hustle him out of the shop. Babs popped two steady pills and, heart racing, moved as quickly as her feet would take her to her daughter’s.

  ‘Don’t want to go, Mum,’ Courtney said stubbornly as Jen hurriedly put on Little Bea’s coat.

  ‘Cut it out, Court,’ Jen snapped. ‘Just do as you’re told.’

  Jen could’ve slapped herself when she saw the look of hurt sweep across her eldest daughter’s face. If there were two people who had never done anything bad to her, it was her girls. She softened her voice. ‘But I thought you liked going to spend time with your nan.’

  Courtney wrinkled her nose. ‘I do, but do we have to stay on Sunday as well? I might not be able to play on the landing with my mates.’

  Jen crouched down and straightened the collar of Little Bea’s coat. ‘I’m sure she’ll let you if you ask nicely. Mind you, I don’t want you playing with that Dexter Miller.’

  Courtney got all sulky again. ‘Why not? Dexter’s nice. I like him.’

  ‘I know you do,’ Jen muttered, so her daughter wouldn’t hear. ‘Let’s just get you over to your Nanny Babs and then we’ll decide what you can do this weekend.’

  ‘Jeeeeen!’ Oh hell. Jen heard her mother calling her from the landing like a foghorn on speed. Babs sounded agitated about something and Jen prayed that she hadn’t heard about her visitors last night. But one look at her mum’s face when she opened the door told her she had.

  Jen played it all bright and breezy. ‘I was hoping you could look after the girls for me this weekend, so I was just bringing them over.’

  Babs didn’t answer; instead, she turned to the girls and handed Courtney a tub of ice cream. ‘Put that in the freezer for me, love.’ Once the girls were out of the way Babs turned to her with her fists planted on her hips. ‘What’s going on, Jen? And don’t give me no flim-flam nonsense.’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Some little birdie told me that some Face and his thugs came around to yours last night looking for that toerag who’s my grandkids’ dad. And I heard that bitch Mel Ingram sticking her beak in and asking questions about it. I want to know chapter and verse about what’s gone on.’

  Jen knew there was no way out of telling the truth. ‘Some top geezer came knocking for Nuts and when I told him I didn’t know where he was, he made a little bit of noise. Scared the girls a touch, but he didn’t lay a finger on me.’

  Babs was alarmed. ‘Oh my God, are you alright?’

  Jen nodded. ‘I don’t think he’ll be back, but just in case, I thought it best for the girls to be somewhere safe for the next couple of days.’

  ‘And what about you, love? Who’s going to keep you safe if he comes banging on your door again? Why don’t you come and stay with me and Tiff as well?’ Babs pursed her lips. ‘I blame myself. Why did I keep pushing you towards Nuts all those years ago?’

  Jen touched her mum’s hand lightly. ‘I was a big girl and made my own choices. And do you know what? I’d do it all over again because I wouldn’t have my beautiful, pretty angels if I’d never met Nuts.’

  ‘So what’s that berk done now?’

  Jen waved her hands
hopelessly in the air. ‘I don’t even really get it, but this geezer was all hot and bothered because he said that Nuts pinched his motor. The car must be twenty- four carat gold the way he was shouting the odds about it. Anyway, I wouldn’t like to be in Nuts’ shoes when he catches up with him.’

  ‘If he’s keeping his head down he needs to stay off the estate because I saw him earlier.’

  Jen looked surprised. ‘Nuts?’ She shook her head. ‘You can’t have, Mum; he’s laying low up in Scotland.’

  Jen looked puzzled. ‘I swear it was him . . .’ She frowned, then relaxed the skin on her forehead as she shrugged. ‘Must be my mistake.’

  ‘So will you take the girls?’

  Babs squeezed her shoulder. ‘You don’t even have to ask.’

  ‘Courtney’s bellyaching about wanting to play out.’ Jen grabbed one of her mum’s hands tight. ‘If you let her, Mum, I’m begging you, don’t let her out of your sight.’

  ‘It’s alright, love,’ Babs said softly feeling the tension vibrate in her hands, ‘like I would on a place like The Devil. Plus, I don’t want her mixing with that new lot next door to me. Their kids should be in cages in London Zoo. When I told the mum that one of her eldest animals had tried to break into my place she just gobbed at my feet and slammed the door.’ Babs shook her head like she couldn’t believe what the world was coming to. ‘What are you planning to do while I’ve got Court and Little Bea?’

  ‘Probably stop indoors. Maybe ask Bex to come over to do my nails.’

  Babs pulled Jen to fully face her. ‘If he comes calling again, don’t let him in. The first thing you do my girl is lock yourself in the bedroom, get on that fancy mobile of yours and let me know.’

  Fifty-Six

  Sneaking out of the house wasn’t the problem for Nicky. It was making sure no one noticed that he was gone. He considered claiming that he was doing homework but he knew not even his mum was going to buy that. And it was Dee who was the problem. Nicky knew he could be gone for a month before John would ask, ‘Where’s the kid?’ But Dee had a nasty habit of poking her nose in when he was after a little privacy, and on that evening he was looking for maximum privacy. Nicky sat on his bed thinking long and hard before he realised the answer was staring him in the face. He got dressed to go out and then went downstairs.

  Dee was lying on the sky blue chaise longue with two slices of cucumber on her eyes. Nicky got that. She’d shed a lot of tears since the car had been stolen and her eyes needed a rest. John was enjoying the break that his wife’s rest cure was providing. He had one of his favourite books to hand – a true-crime book about East End gangsters. He enjoyed bringing his expert knowledge to the genre and correcting the author under his breath. ‘That’s rubbish, I know who did that blag and it wasn’t him . . . Only hurt bad guys my arse – he was a proper fucking psycho that bloke . . . The guilty man might be a mystery to the author but I know who it was – it was me.’ And so on.

  Neither of the two adults acknowledged his presence, which was just how he wanted it. Nicky walked to the middle of the room, lit the blue touch paper and prepared to retire. ‘’Ere Mum, has Dad found your car yet?’

  The fireworks went off immediately. Dee pounced on his words. She tore off the cucumber, sat up and turned on her husband. ‘No, he fucking hasn’t. He’s too busy reading a fucking book by the look of it.’

  John looked at Nicky with something approaching shock mixed with displeasure, before pleading with his wife, ‘I’ve got half of London looking for that car. What do you want me to do? Go out myself with an A–Z and a torch . . . ?’

  With the job done, his parents arguing away like cats and dogs, Nicky went in to the hall and let himself out of the house without even bothering to keep his departure too quiet. He knew mum. The row he’d started would last until she collapsed, exhausted. Dad would grin and bear it. Even in the unlikely event that John asked, ‘Where’s Nicky?’ the response would be, ‘Never mind about Nicky, where’s my car?’

  He walked down the drive with a smile on his face, kicking gravel as he went. There were times when having a bat-shit crazy mother was an advantage in life. And this was one of them.

  Tiffany had chosen a twenty-four hour burger bar out in the suburbs where London begins to merge into Essex – one of those flat places that don’t even have a proper name of their own – as she assumed that would mean she wouldn’t be recognised. But sitting at the window, watching the continuous stream of customers come out, she began to worry. She worried that someone might recognise her, or worse, identify who she’d come to meet. There was a car park outside and, in the distance, a sign for a tube station. She was desperate to get this meeting done and dusted before fate played a hand and someone shouted, ‘Hi, Tiff! What are you doing here?’ Looking at her watch became a nervous twitch. Looking at the clock on the wall became another as she hoped one or the other would speed up so this could be over.

  A Ford Escort circled the car park before pulling up about as far away from the burger bar as it was possible to be, in a place where there were no lamps and light. A shadowy figure climbed out of the car, cap pulled low and then a hood over it. The figure walked slowly, head nodding, weaving and ducking as if an unseen attacker was lying in wait between the car and the swing doors into the outlet. After peering through the window a couple of times and giving the car park a lingering look, the person came in and drifted around like a ghost before finally settling nervously opposite Tiffany at her table.

  Tiffany smiled and whispered, ‘You can take your cap and hood off now. If anyone knows we’re here, they’ll know we’re here – if you know what I mean, Jen.’

  Jen prayed hard that no one knew she was here. Flippin’ hell, thinking about what she’d done still made her heart race way too fast. She did what her sister told her to, and catching the expression on Tiffany’s face told her what she looked like with her face exposed – tired, pinched, skin as white as snow.

  ‘Is he here yet?’ she asked quietly.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Are you sure he’s coming?’

  Tiffany faked a grin. ‘Sure.’ Then she stared into her milkshake and admitted, ‘He promised – but then he’s about as reliable as a reformed junkie in a chemist.’

  The two sisters stared out into the car park. Tiffany caught sight of another figure in black trackie bottoms, pumps and a black jacket. This figure too had a cap on, pulled so low it covered the top half of his face. He too was weaving between the cars, occasionally looking up from under his cap. But to Tiffany, it seemed that, unlike Jen, he was enjoying this cloak and dagger moment. When the figure reached the doors, he flung them both open and entered like a cowboy gunning for trouble in a Western. Looking out from under his cap, he spotted Tiffany and sauntered over to their table where he sat down. She reached over and pulled his cap off as if she were his mum. ‘Jen – this is Nicky. Dee and John’s son. He’s also the young man who stole his mum’s car.’

  Fifty-Seven

  ‘Howay man, Bernie Gallows is the name.’ The young man in overalls, who had just walked into the garage, announced his arrival to one of the workers, before adding, ‘Can I speak to the owner?’

  The mechanic noticed his Geordie accent straight away. The owner, Felix, was not going to be best pleased at having to speak to someone so late in the day; the boss was hoping to get off for parents’ evening at his daughter’s school. His daughter was a bit of a handful so Felix was always touchy when he had to go to speak to her teachers.

  ‘I’ll get him for you.’

  The first thing an irritated Felix noticed about the fella was his hair. It resembled a badly fitted, curly wig that looked like it wanted to be anywhere other than on someone’s head. Plus, the geezer wore a pair of glasses that would look better on a woman.

  ‘You want to speak to me?’

  ‘The name’s Bernie Gallows.’ Umm, Felix thought, that’s a very strange Geordie accent – his bitch of an ex-missus had come from that part of the country; he�
�d drawn the short straw in the divorce settlement and ended up with the wild kid. But Felix let the customer talk; he’d had all sorts come in here.

  ‘I run my own car maintenance business out of Grays and I’m looking for an engine for a 1987 Ford Escort and can’t find one anywhere. One of my customers drove his car around with no oil in it and it’s a bust. I don’t suppose you have one you could sell me, do you?’ His accent seemed to fade and he sounded more like a young chancer from Coronation Street as he went on. ‘I’ll pay good money for it like.’

  ‘Well Bernie, as you can see, I run a little garage not a breakers yard, so I can’t help I’m afraid.’

  But Bernie Gallows seemed to have lost interest in the engine and seemed to be carefully scanning the yard and lock-ups outside. Then his attention seemed to wander to the gates. Even when Felix said, ‘You’re a long way from home, Bernie, aren’t you?’ he didn’t notice for a few seconds before he turned his attention back to the question.

  ‘Howay, came south for the work like and met a girl – you know?’

  ‘I meant Grays – you’re a long way from there too.’

  Bernie obviously wasn’t keen on being questioned and was now checking the walls of the office. ‘Grays? Howay, I move around a lot, you have to in this business.’

  Felix got impatient. He was not looking forward to this parents’ evening lark. ‘Well I’m sorry, I can’t help you and I’m afraid we’re closing now.’ Bernie took no notice so the owner repeated his goodbye more firmly.

  His visitor finally got the message and slowly and gradually began to make his way out. ‘Thanks anyway.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  Felix walked back to the office and said to Gladys, his secretary ‘Google Bernie Gallows.’

  A minute later she reported, ‘Can’t find nothing about him or a car business in Grays with his name.’